


Feels Like Home

by viennasunrise (kteaanne)



Series: The Haunting of Tony Stark (Series) [2]
Category: Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Civil War (Marvel), I swear, M/M, but it'll get better, not really a fix it, this just breaks things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 18:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6531391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kteaanne/pseuds/viennasunrise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Tony meet up during the events of Civil War to try and talk things out. Things don't go so well. (Steve's POV)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feels Like Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imafriendlydalek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imafriendlydalek/gifts).



> This scene is mentioned in passing during [The Haunting of Tony Stark](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5153951/chapters/11867546). Imafriendlydalek sent me an angsty tumblr message and this ended up being the result. :)

He’d been checking the com lines when he found it, a seemingly benign piece of chatter about meeting Tony back at the mansion. He stared at the screen for a minute, not really believing what he saw typed out in Tony’s shorthand. He could just ignore it; pretend like he’d never seen it and gone one with his life–it wasn’t like he owed Tony anything. But it was a foregone conclusion; Steve was going to end up at the mansion and he knew it.

The trek to Manhattan was a long one. Leave it up to Tony to want to meet late on a Friday night. The mansion stood in shambles, long ago abandoned following the events of M-day, and Steve’s heart sank at the sight. The team had spent so many happy years there and now all that was left was the charred corpse of his home; a monument to their failures and the perfect metaphor for how Steve was feeling. What was the point of any of this?

He jumped the wall, made his way across the overgrown lawn, and into the foyer. It was acutely painful to be back now that the team was just as broken as the mansion. Maybe they should have seen this coming all along. He made his way down the hall, unsure of where Tony would be waiting for him. He hoped to god it wouldn’t be the workshop–the last time he’d been down there the two of them were still happy; he wasn’t sure he could deal with the memory of that right now.

He turned the corner toward the kitchen and found Iron Man seated at the table waiting for him.

“Hello, Steve,” Tony said from behind the mask. Damn it if Steve didn’t resent him for that. He’d been hoping they could work this out as Steve and Tony not Captain America and Iron Man. “Glad you could make it.”

Steve found himself short on words. What was he supposed to say to Tony after everything that happened? Last time they met Bill died. There was too wide a gap between them and it felt impossible to cross. There was no going back now; Steve was sure of it.

“I got your message,” Steve said lamely. He wished he had something more clever to say, something that would get Tony’s attention in a way Steve hadn’t managed to do in so long.  


“I thought we should talk,” Tony stood and walked around the table.

We should have talked months ago, Steve thought. Maybe then we could have avoided this all and you and I would still be happy. Anything but this.

“After all we’ve been through together,” Tony continued, “All these years I think we owe it to each other to try to work things out one last time. Before something else happens… Like what happened to Bill.”

Tony had always been a master of talking around what he really wanted to say and tonight was no different. They’d been through a lot, Steve was aware of that, but he couldn’t understand why Tony would flirt with talking about the two of them and then move on to Bill’s death. Steve felt his temper flare; he needed Tony to shut up.

“What happened!” he found himself yelling, “Your man killed him, Tony. That’s what happened!”

Why was it always easier to fight about everything but them?

Steve hung his head. He wasn’t willing to let this escalate like things did last time. He sighed, “Fine. You want to talk, let’s talk.”

“That’s--,” Tony sounded surprised, “I’m glad to hear you say that. I really believe we can work through this, Steve.”

God Steve wished that was true. But standing there, in the same room as Iron Man, Steve wanted to scream. He wanted to talk to Tony, not meet in the abandoned mansion in the dead of night as their superhero counterparts. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’ll talk to Tony Stark, not that mask.”

“Fine, put down the shield and I’ll take the suit off.”

In the time it took Steve to turn around and set the shield against the wall, Tony released the armor and Steve found himself standing feet from Tony in nothing but the undersuit. His body suddenly screamed at him to close the distance between them–he’d known for a long time that Tony meant home and it was physically painful to know they’d lost that. Here they were, broken beyond repair, and Steve couldn’t help but wish things he gone differently. He missed Tony more than he was willing to admit, even to himself. And here he was, within reach, and Steve couldn’t act on it. This was a mistake.

“So, um, how are things?” Tony asked, making a lame attempt at small talk. He sounded nervous. Steve could sympathise.

“They’re fine, Tony. What did you want to talk about?”

“That wall,” he pointed, “That’s the one I came through, remember?”

Steve almost smiled at the memory. That had been an interesting day. He’d been defrosted for less than a year when the Chameleon decided to cause problems; that had been their first fight. In retrospect, it had been tame compared to the last few months. He missed those days.

“I remember, but that’s not why we’re here, Tony.”

Tony sighed and visibly deflated. “I know, Steve. I’m the one who asked to meet, remember? I know terrible things have happened,” Tony stared at the ground as he talked, refusing to meet Steve’s eyes, “and I _hate_ it. Tell me, Steve,” he looked up, “What can I do! What I can I do to make it _stop_?”

Steve’s heart fluttered in his chest–this was the moment he’d been hoping for since the war started. You can drop the SHRA and come back to me, he thought. There was so much of him that needed to have Tony back by his side, fighting together as a team. It was the way things were supposed to be and he found now, that it might actually be a possibility, he was willing to do almost anything to have that back.

But he couldn’t say any of those things to Tony. He’d made himself vulnerable that night in the workshop and it had backfired spectacularly. He wanted things to go back to they way they used to be so badly, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say it. Why did this all have to be so complicated?

“Join me,” Steve found himself saying, “Denounce the act and help me fight it. We can fix this together, Tony.”

“I– Steve, I can’t. Even if I could it wouldn’t matter. Reed or Hank or someone would take over and I can’t let that happen. You don’t understand what I was up against after Stamford, Steve. Have you ever even heard of Project Wideawake? Imagine a sky full of Sentinels hunting us down, forcibly implanted inhibitor circuits in our brains taking away our powers. Genetic testing of the entire population so any potential superhumans are under government control before they’re even born. I talked congress down to this, Steve. Do you have any idea how difficult that was? Can you at least appreciate that I’m trying to do the best with what we have. Can you try to see that for one second, put the shield down, and help me from the inside? I can’t do this without you, Steve. Please.”

“What, from inside a cell? I’m a wanted man, Tony. I don’t walk away from this. We both know that.”

“Damn it,” Tony yelled, slamming his fist against the wall. “Can you just, for one second, not be such a stubborn ass?”

He was done. This had been pointless from the beginning and Steve had been a fool for ever thinking the two of them could work this out. He turned to leave, locking the shield in place behind his shoulders.

“We’re not going to solve anything here. I should go.” He was impressed with how level his voice sounded. He was much closer to tears than he’d thought.

He took a few steps, reaching for the door, when he felt Tony’s hand on his shoulder.

“No, we’re not done here, Steve. We can–” Tony growled, anger evident in his voice.

He wasn’t sure if his next move had been more out of anger or reflex but he felt physically ill when his fist connected to Tony’s jaw and he felt the bone snap in two. He watched as Tony fell to the floor, cupping his face, and he knew there really was no coming back from this. He would never forgive himself for this. Right or wrong, Tony had always meant more to him than anything else and without a thought he’d broken his jaw.

Steve turned tail and left before he could say something he’d regret later.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has a [tumblr post](https://viennasunrise.tumblr.com/post/142658795030/for-weeks-of-fic-day-three). Come say hi!


End file.
